


Exits and Entrances

by softalex



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, ends in fluff, fix it fic of sorts. Maggie doesn't leave after she tells Alex what happened when she was 14., it's emotional
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-22
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-09-26 04:11:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9861908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softalex/pseuds/softalex
Summary: Even though every part of her soul tells her that Alex is different, her fears still seep through the cracks of her wall like rampant weeds grow through gravel rocks.





	

“I have to go.” Maggie holds a heavy shield in front of her emotions, in front of the wall she’s built up, because it’s all crumbling down at an alarming rate. She can’t display any hint of weakness, doesn’t want to face the inevitable scoff accompanied by a belittling ’why are you making such a big deal out of this’.

Even though every part of her soul tells her that Alex is different, her fears still seep through the cracks of her wall like rampant weeds grow through gravel rocks.

 

She won’t stay and ruin this, ruin everything, with her issues and pettiness. Her throat aches. It’s a dull and cold pain, a tell-tale sign that she’s about to fall. It’s hard to swallow, even harder to form words, and her breath feels unsteady. Maggie turns around, feet moving on their own accord. It’s an autopilot setting to leave, the default that she has relied on so many times before.

It’s fight or flight, and Maggie might be a fighter in her workplace, but when this happens, flight is the only viable option.

 

When it’s about her sexuality, even if it’s only indirectly, like the memory of Valentine’s day, she becomes _that_ girl again. The girl that isn’t confident in her sexuality; the girl that wakes up crying in the middle of the night, that feels downright filthy when she so much as looks at a girl. She becomes riddled with guilt and the only words at the tip of her tongue are:  _I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry._

 

The torment and guilt is wherever she looks and she want’s to crawl out of her own skin, wants to punch and kick and scream. She’s a deer caught in the headlights and her flight response kicks in, she doesn't recognise any other option, doesn’t know any other way to solve this.

 

Alex recognises the pain in Maggie’s words, the lingering sadness of them. The quake of her breath, the way Maggie every so slightly stumbles over the words. She recognises the pain, and she recognises the words. After she kissed Maggie for the first time, let herself be vulnerable for the first time, only to be rejected, she had uttered the same words.

‘I have to go.’

She remembers the despair lacing those words; the humiliation that feels worse than a punch to the gut.

 

Valentine’s day is long forgotten; replaced by the exposed scars of an untreated injury inflicted onto the woman Alex adores, during her most formative years.

So, when Maggie turns to leave, she steps forward, takes the woman’s hands into her own. “Maggie, no.” It was meant to sound assertive, like she knows what she’s doing, (she doesn’t), but it comes out as a stuttered plea, her voice trembling.

Maggie wants to protest, wants to flee, but how can she? How can she leave when Alex’ hand fits so seamlessly in hers; when the way Alex looks at her makes Maggie want to accelerate the downfall of her own walls, when it makes her drop her armour and wave a white flag with enthusiasm.

 

Alex lets go of one hand. “Come sit down, please?”

Maggie hesitates. “I should go. Seriously, Danvers, I-“ She tries to turn again, but Alex is right by her side, a hand on each of her shoulders.

 

“Can I hug you?” Alex trips and stumbles over the words, because there’s so many emotions and feelings in the air right now, and when Maggie nods, ever so slowly and slightly, she blinks away a few tears. She embraces her girlfriend, carefully, softly.

“You’re so brave.” She whispers. Her hands stroke Maggie’s back, softly, carefully.

 

Alex leads them to the couch, sits down next to Maggie. She wraps her arms around the woman once again and when Maggie leans in to the hug she tightens it. “It’s okay to not be okay, Maggie.” She whispers. This seems to be the final straw for Maggie as her tears start to flow. She’s hiccuping and when she finally gets the sobs under control she tries to apologise. “I’m sorry-“

The words are cut off as her voice fails her, and Alex pulls her into a deeper hug,

 

“You have nothing to be sorry about. What happened to you is horrible, and this isn’t just a pet peeve. Your feelings are real, and you’re real, okay?”

 

They sit like this for a while. Maggie tightens her grip around Alex before pulling away, wiping her tear soaked face as her breathing slows down. When she trusts her voice enough, she speaks. “Thank you.” It’s hoarse and her throat hurts when she says it, but the sentiment gets through none the less.

Their hands are intertwined and Alex gets a blanket, wraps it around the woman before standing up. Maggie looks at her, eyes still puffy and red. “I thought I’d make some tea and toast? Maybe we could watch a movie.”

Maggies lips curve upwards but the smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Or would you prefer if I stayed here and held you?” Alex smiles a little, trying to lighten the mood.

Maggie nods shyly, but it ends with a compromise as the silence is broken by the rumble of Alex’ stomach. They hold hands as Alex makes them tea and toast.  
Neither of them let go, and every now and then they give the other’s hand a gentle squeeze.

They sit down in the couch again, warm tea and a plate of toast in front of them.

 

Alex turns on the TV, “What do you want to watch?”

 

“Anything that has absolutely nothing to do with valentines day.” Maggie jokes, and it’s the first full sentence she’s said in over an hour. Some of the rough tension is alleviated and Alex grins, dropping a kiss on her girlfriend’s cheek.

 

“How do you feel about Back To the Future?” Alex inquires.

 

Maggie looks sheepishly at her girlfriend. “Um. I don’t.. know?” She tries to respond, because she’s heard of the movie, but she actually has no idea what it’s about other than time travel.

 

Alex swallows a bite of her toast, “How can you not know if you like back to the future?” She looks genuinely confused, the Danvers™ crinkle on full display.

Maggie smirks. Her girlfriend is a fucking _dork._ “I wouldn’t know if I like that movie because I’ve never seen it, Danvers.”

 

Alex looks mock-offended. “Okay, first of all: It’s three movies, second of all: you’ve seriously never seen back to the future?”

 

Maggie shakes her head, and she smiles, really smiles, because she didn’t run away, and now she’s seriously bantering with her girlfriend. She feels safe and cared for. Alex wraps a blanket around them as she starts the first movie. What Maggie said earlier isn’t forgotten, but that conversation is paused and saved for another day.

They’re in a silent agreement, they will talk about it, but not right now. 

 

In this moment, all they need is to be close to each other, breathing, holding hands, reassuring the other that they’re not just going to leave.

For now, it’s enough for Alex to laugh at the jokes Maggie cracks about Doc Brown and Marty McFly; it’s enough for Maggie to smirk and grin at the tidbits of random information Alex drops throughout all three movies.

 

They fall asleep on the couch, Alex protectively wrapping herself around Maggie. They’re more than enough for each other, and they don’t feel like they have to go anywhere.

 

They fall asleep feeling safe in each others embrace.


End file.
